


Poco a poco

by sarahgene12



Series: Berceuse, Op. 57 [3]
Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse (TV), Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Post-Canon, Reunions, This hurt my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahgene12/pseuds/sarahgene12
Summary: It's the day Robert Lewis and Laura Hobson finally return from New Zealand. Hathaway is anxious to get to the airport to see them. Morse tags along, which may or may not have been a good idea.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/gifts), [Lucyemers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyemers/gifts), [hurry_sundown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurry_sundown/gifts).



“Where are we going today?” 

Hathaway stopped at the door, keys in hand.   
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”   
Morse stepped to one side, into view. He was back to the curly-headed, stick-thin version of himself, and looked vaguely amused.   
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. So where are we off to in such a hurry?” 

Hathaway pulled the door wide, purposefully opening and shutting it in just enough time to let himself—but no one else—through. He locked the door behind him, smirking, and strode towards the end of his drive, where a cab sat waiting.   
He greeted the driver, then climbed into the backseat. 

“You do realize that shutting a door can’t stop me from following you, don’t you?”   
Hathaway started, knocking his knees on the back of the seat in front of him. “Christ!”  
The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror. “You alright back there, mate?” Hathaway waved away the question, hearing the cabbie grumble to himself.  
Morse sat primly in the seat opposite Hathaway, looking like he was trying to hold in a laugh. His bright blue eyes sparkled with it. 

 

It took nearly half an hour to reach the airport. Hathaway didn’t speak a word during the whole trip, save to politely encourage the cab driver’s attempt at small talk. Morse watched him curiously, noting the air of anxiety which made itself known through the constant twitching and fiddling of the young man’s hands. When he wasn’t addressing the cabbie, Hathaway spent the entire duration of the trip gazing worriedly out of the window.   
When they arrived, Morse pulled his trick again, popping instantly from the backseat to the sidewalk, and waited for Hathaway to pay. Once he had, Morse fell in step beside the young inspector as they made their way inside. 

“Thank you at least for not making me talk to thin air in there and look like some sort of lunatic,” Hathaway muttered.   
“But you’re talking to thin air now, aren’t you? And no one’s paying you any mind at all.”   
When Hathaway looked, Morse was smiling.   
“That’s because it’s an airport, everyone talks to themselves at an airport. Look, are you going to stay here this whole time? This is really something I’d rather do on my own.” 

Morse frowned. “But you haven’t told me why we’re here in the first place! Are you going on holiday? Are you meeting someone?”   
Hathaway sighed, looking irritated. He stopped, and pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. Holding it to his ear, he looked directly at Morse.   
“Yes, I’m meeting someone, alright? Robert and Laura are coming back today and I said I’d meet them. I didn’t think I had to work it out with you whenever I might have plans.” 

Morse stared at him. Though, logically, there wasn’t any color left in him, his face gave the appearance of becoming suddenly drained, and particularly pale. He looked stricken. 

Hathaway watched him, realizing what he’d said. “Oh. Oh right, erm, sorry. Sorry. I suppose…. You can stay, if you like.” He lowered the mobile from his ear, pretending to end a call.   
Morse attempted a smile, reaching towards Hathaway and patting his shoulder, just the once. The young inspector, of course, felt nothing, but he nodded anyway. 

 

They were standing together when Robert and Laura came out of the terminal. Hathaway raised his arm and waved, and Laura matched it, smiling hugely. She ran right up and hugged him as soon as they were close, and he laughed, bending just a little so they were the same height.   
“Hello James! Oh, it’s so good to see you! Gosh, you look tall, have you gotten taller?” 

“God, I hope not, he’s lofty enough as it is!” Lewis held his hand out to James, who took it. “Doing alright, then, James? Not got into too much trouble?”   
Hathaway laughed, feeling a hard knot in his throat. “Just enough, I think, Robbie. W-welcome back, both of you! How was New Zealand?”   
Laura and Robert looked at each other, grinning, then said in unison: “Hot!” 

“Not as bad as Australia, surely?” James asked, as the three of them started walking towards the baggage claim. When he looked back, Morse was following close behind, watching Lewis.   
“When did I tell you I’d gone to Australia?” Robert asked, looking puzzled. 

Laura swatted his arm. “Oh well you must’ve done! One of your long evenings in the pub, I suspect. He gets nostalgic when he’s got a bellyful.” Lewis shrugged.   
“It wasn’t quite as hot, anyhow. A lot more grass and trees, as well. What about you, James? Did you get along alright as the man in charge while I was away?”   
Hathaway scoffed. “I’m still the man in charge now that you’re back, Robbie, don’t forget that. I kept everyone well in line, yes.”   
“Good man.” 

They’d reached the baggage carousel, and as Laura and Robert watched for their bags, Hathaway looked for Morse.   
He found him easily; he’d appeared a foot or two to the right and behind Lewis. Hathaway almost wanted to tell Robert he was there. It was a ludicrous idea, of course, but the expression of sadness on the pale, briery features of his companion almost made him do it.   
When the bags had been collected, Hathaway suggested Laura and Robert wait for him while he called a cab. It was an excuse, and it must have sounded like one; Robert of course was all for the idea, but Laura looked suspicious. Nevertheless he went, and Morse followed. 

“Are you alright? Seeing them again?” Hathaway asked once they were out of earshot.   
Morse’s jaw was set. “Of course, yes, it was just a shock. It’s my own fault, assuming I could just tag along wherever you go.”   
Hathaway shrugged, trying to make it look as though he were grumbling about hailing a taxi. “You can, you know. I could keep up the mobile act just so long as no one calls me while I’m pretending.” 

Morse said nothing, patiently waiting while Hathaway caught one of the cabs and told the driver to wait.   
“And it’s not as if you won’t see him again, either. They’re still living in Oxford, and you could pop in whenever you like.”   
Following Hathaway back inside, Morse suddenly looked pained. “No, no, that wouldn’t be right. It would feel too much like spying. I think it’s best if I just—”

“Right! Are we all set?” Lewis came up behind Hathaway, sounding sparkier than James could ever remember him being before. He was hauling three of the four cases behind him, panting a little from the exertion. Laura carried the last, looking completely untroubled.   
Hathaway looked a little ways beyond Lewis, at Morse. His old friend had walked straight through him, without ever guessing.   
Lewis frowned, turning back around. “What? Did you see someone?” Now, the tip of his nose nearly touched the high arch of Morse’s cheek. The ethereal policeman looked ill. 

Hathaway shook his head. “No, no, sorry. Thought I had. C’mon, I’ve got the cab waiting.”   
He’d helped them load their suitcases into the back of the cab before he realized he’d already made a decision. With Robert and Laura tucked comfortably in the backseat, he leaned in and said, “Listen, do you mind if I take another taxi? Only, you two must be exhausted, and I just think it makes much more sense for you to go straight home.”   
Laura protested, but Robbie agreed. “You’re probably right, mate. Thanks for taking the trouble to see us in, anyway! It really is grand to see you again, I mean it!”   
Hathaway smiled, waved goodbye, and shut the taxi door. It drove off.

Stepping back from the curb, he found Morse standing close beside him, as he expected.   
“Why did you do that?”   
Hathaway brought his mobile up to his ear again, but looked straight at Morse. He held the young-looking inspector’s gaze, feeling a sensation not dissimilar to when he’d first spotted Lewis at the arrival gate.   
“They’ve just gotten back from holiday. They don’t want a sulky policeman hanging about. Besides, I meant what I said about going straight home. We should too.” 

Morse raised his eyebrows, his mouth falling open in surprise.   
“We? What do you mean, we?”   
Hathaway smiled softly, forgetting his guise for a moment and hailing a cab with the hand holding his mobile.   
“If you want to, that is. One sulking policeman is no good, but I figure two might just manage to get on.” 

Morse nodded, wiping hastily at his eyes with a shaking hand.   
“No, yeah, brilliant! That—that would be good. That would be fine.”   
A cab pulled up to the curb, and Hathaway wretched open the door.   
“Coming?”  
Morse made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. “Yeah! Yes.” He climbed inside, making sure to make room for James beside him.


End file.
